


Normal Tuesday Night

by TheCharmingSeal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anchors, Creeper Peter Hale, Derek is a Failwolf, Derek is mostly eyebrows in this, Gen, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Post-Nogitsune, Semi-Sane Peter, Tagging as I go, alternating pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2018-05-11 10:55:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5624464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCharmingSeal/pseuds/TheCharmingSeal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a normal Tuesday night when Peter Hale fell through Stiles Stilinski's roof</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so here goes. I've been sitting on this little fic for a while now and decided to put a taster up to see if people would actually want to read this. It is severely un-edited, but please, please give me your thoughts, even if it's just to say you hate this (although, if I'm being honest and all, I really hope you don't)
> 
> As always this is un-beta'd so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> ~TCS x

#### Stiles

It was a normal Tuesday night when Peter Hale crashed through his roof.

Ever since the showdown with the nogitsune, Stiles finds he needs more time on his own these days. It’s not that he doesn’t love the others, he does, even Peter. It’s just that sometimes he needs to get away from the pitying/hurt/distrustful looks and reassure himself that he’s the only one in his head, which is pretty hard to do when the whole pack surrounds him with sound, noise and just general chaos 24/7. 

Scott’s pointed out enough times in the past that, if it weren’t for the fact that he can hear Stiles heartbeat and the way he moves around, he wouldn’t be able to tell that stiles is in the house at all, his scent is so thoroughly ingrained. Which is why he chooses to hide himself in the attic - his room just isn’t a place he wants to be right now - besides he can never hope to predict when a member of the furry variety might jump through his window in need of his mighty Google-Fu™. His attic is safe since he’s pretty sure none of the werewolves know (or care) about it and his dad refuses to go up there since his mother’s death. So with a bit of belief, Stiles is _so_ much more than his spark these days, and a book that he may or may not have “borrowed” from Deaton, Stiles has more or less soundproofed the room to any straying wolfy ears. He’s never actually “tested” it per say, but he’s never been found up here so he counts it as a win.

Stiles is sitting there reading, (making sure he still _can_ read) a little bit smug and a little bit sweaty once he’d finished hauling a deceptively heavy beanbag chair up into the attic (not to mention that he dropped it five times and almost fell out at least seven), when Peter Hale, of all people, crashes through his roof.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#### Peter

Now Peter’s always been a little too curious for his own good, or at least that’s what he’s used to hearing from everyone. His mother, his big sister Talia, hell even his nephew Derek has jumped in on the bandwagon a couple times. Although where his nephew gets off telling Peter that he's too curious for his own good and that "he'll get himself hurt", when, _he’s_ the one who was so curious about the female anatomy he almost got his entire family killed, he’ll never know. (The look on Derek’s face when he pointed that out was _almost_ worth the visual of his nephew in bed with that bitch.) _Point being,_ is that Peter always feels the need to know everything. So when Stiles starts slinking away from pack meetings, and slipping out of the, slightly demeaning yet aptly named, puppy piles, its no wonder that Peter follows him.

 _‘Is he going… Home??’_ Peter shook his head in disbelief. He didn't understand. Why would Stiles feel the need to skip out on pack gatherings just to go home? Of all the possible scenarios that Peter had imagined, (drugs, a secret boyfriend, possibly even an underground fight club) sneaking out to go home was never one of them. Still that was one of the reasons he adored the boy so much, Stiles was the only one who could continually surprise, and _possibly_ outsmart, him. 

Peter listened intently as Stiles set his bag down by the door and headed into the kitchen, probably to get himself a drink or some sort of snack. 

Sparing a second to take a quick stock of the neighbourhood, one can never be too careful in Beacon Hills after all, he breaks into a short run and jumped up, settling himself in the branches of the tree in the Stilinski’s back garden. 

Now Peter isn't stupid. He knows that he isn't the only one that ~~watches~~ _**visits,**_ Stiles like this. Derek’s scent is so thoroughly saturated in the tree besides Stiles window, it practically radiates through the entire block. He’s safe enough though, Derek’s far too dense to notice anything that isn't _StilesStilesStiles_. Frankly, this doesn't surprise Peter one bit. Derek's always been fonder of listening to his, _ahem_ , “heart” than actually using his brain to figure shit out. Makes him entirely too easy to manipulate, but that's not Peter’s problem, especially when he's taken advantage of that fact too many times to count. 

Peter takes a moment to mourn the fact that the only fun times he has with his nephew is when he's manipulating, or otherwise pulling one over on him. 

Shaking himself out of it, and scaring some pigeons in the process, Peter startled when he realised he could no longer hear the boy’s heartbeat. Fearing the worst, (It _is_ Beacon Hills after all and it would be Stiles' luck to get kidnapped in his own house) he scrambled to the top of the tree and flung himself onto the kid’s roof. Peter had barely landed when, for a split second, he could have sworn he heard a faint cracking sound before everything went black.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjourno mon amies! (And yes I know I mixed languages)
> 
> It's been a while huh? I'dlike to say I'm back and better than ever, but let's just settle for IM BAAAAACK!! Hehe
> 
> This is pretty short but it was just to get my feet wet and back into the swing of things, so enjoy!
> 
> As always un-betaed

Stiles has never been good at doing the "right" thing or the "good" thing. That isn't to say that he's "bad" per se, just that he has different priorities is all. So when Peter crashes through his roof all _furandlimbsandteeth_ , he does the sensible thing, (after the flailing, and the manly shrieking, because jesus fuck Peter Hale just crashed through his goddamn ceiling) and traps the wolf in a circle of mountain ash. 

Then, taking a second to get the angle right, Stiles quickly takes a selfie of himself grinning like a loon with Peter in the background looking distinctly uncomfortable in amongst the pile of debris. It's juvenile and petty, but Stiles is juvenile and petty and it's also the first time he's laughed in a week so fuck it. 

Fun over with, Stiles glances over the attic and sighs. His dad was definitely not going to appreciate this one. Oh well, Peter could deal with it, it was his fault after all. 

Speaking of which, what was the wolf even doing on his roof in the first place? He should have been at the pack meeting with the others. Instead he was here, bursting through the ceiling with such force Miley Cyrus would've been jealous.

Letting out a breathy chuckle and then promptly grimacing at the thought of a naked Peter swinging around on a wrecking ball, Stiles considered his options. 

He could kick the wolf out of the house, he supposed. Drag him out the jeep and dump him in the preserve somewhere? He discarded that thought immediately. Even if he managed to get the wolf out of the house somehow, (Stiles was fairly strong for his age and build but he wasn't going to damage his already fragile ego by trying to carry the wolf down the ladder and however many stairs. Stiles has not forgotten the Beanbag Fiasco™) there's no way he wouldn't be spotted. 

"Note to self: get working on an invisibility rune." Stiles muttered under his breath. 

He could try wiping his memory? But Stiles hadn't got round to brain magic yet and, as much as he might loathe Peter sometimes, he's not willing to risk the wolf's sanity a second time. The first time was bad enough. And while Stiles doesn't exactly disagree with Peter's actions post fire, he doesn't exactly want a repeat either. 

So memory magic was out. Dumping the body in the woods was a no go. 

_You could just kill him._ A voice in the back of his head whispered. _No magic required_. Which, yeah, was true and all. But Stiles liked to at least _attempt_ other avenues before resorting to straight-up death. 

Besides, as much as he might irritate Stiles, Peter had never actually done him harm. That, plus the fact that Stiles had a policy that he never hurt people unless they'd done him wrong, or were about to. Or if they were supremely annoying scarf twirling best friend stealers, or Armani model looking dickeads, or leather jacket wearing assholes, or naive self-righteous twats, or cowardly spineless jerks who _left him there to die_ even though he _saved their lives_ and-

Anyway, the point is, Stiles only hurts people if they deserve it. Somehow Peter has managed to not be on that list. At least, not any more. As far as Stiles is concerned, once you throw a Molotov Cocktail at someone, any animosity you previously held against them is moot. 

Still, that didn't mean Stiles trusted him. So, adding a second layer of magic and "belief" to the mountain ash, Stiles settled into his deck chair, (only slightly more dignified than the bean bag chair, he hadn't exactly built this place for intimidation.) making sure that he was out of reach from wolf currently drooling into a pile of rubble, and settled in to wait. Hey, you never know, maybe Peter hit his head and would wake up with a brand new sparkly non-murdery personality.

One can hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. Next update should be by next Friday at the latest. 
> 
> Ta ta, I'll see you in a bit my flowers!!
> 
> (And yes I just signed off with a Tangled reference)
> 
> ~TCS


	3. !!!!!THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER!!!!!!

First off, I wanna say that I know that I've been hella unreliable with this fix so I wanna start by saying THANK YOU ALL YOU SEXY CHICKEN NUGGETS FOR STICKING BY ME AND MY WEIRD UNRELIABLE SELF. 

Second: This is just a hella quick note to say that I had to deal with a thing (involving friends who don't derserve the title of friends) so I'm a bit behind. That said...

NEXT CHAPTER BY WEDNESDAY!!

Stay tuned....

~TCS


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not even going to say anything, there is nought but shame
> 
> Also, I can't remember what colour string Stiles uses besides red and, I assume, green. So I guessed. 
> 
> Enjoy, don't kill me - you can't eat pizza when you're dead

The first thing Peter was aware of was that he was drowning and that he was fully shifted. The Second was the sound of hysterical laughter.

"Hahahahaha!! Dude you should have seen your FACE! You were all," Stiles proceeds to contort his face while making an awkward gurgling sound in the back of his throat that Peter assumes to be Stiles' attempt at a growl.

Ignoring that display entirely, Peter sits back on his haunches, tilting his head to the left slightly.

"My dear Stiles, if you really wanted to torture me, I assure you there's infinitely more _pleasurable_ ways to go about it." Peter all but oozed, "Frankly, waterboarding is completely beneath one as fine as yourself. If you wanted to take my breath away, might I suggest a spot of light asphyxiation instead?"

"God! You-you!" Stiles flailed, "You can't just say things like that! Ugh, you're such a creeper!" The poor boy was nearly scarlet at this point.

Taking a deep breath in, Peter smiled at the spicy scent of Stiles arousal permeating the air.

"Ah, the lady doth protest too much, methinks." Peter drawled. "Besides. I was merely suggesting that choking someone is a lot less messy than drowning." He paused, "Well, depending on how you go about it, of course." Peter winked.

Stiles flushed, but wisely chose not to respond to that remark. Instead opting to change the subject.

"Why are you here Peter?" Stiles asked, flopping back into the deck chair that Peter hadn't even noticed up until now. In fact Peter realised that he hadn't even bothered to check his surroundings at all since he woke up.

Cursing himself for his negligence, Peter hurried to take in the details of the room he was in.

From what he could see at this angle, he appeared to be in a normal attic. Normal, if it wasn’t for the racks and racks vials along the back wall, some faintly glowing, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. Looking carefully, Peter could see the tiny little handwritten labels under each one. He was unable to make them out however, and was inclined to blame it the concussion he most definitely had, if it weren’t for one symbol catching his eye. _ah, runes then_

Pushing that aside for now, Peter scanned the rest of the room. Just underneath the remaining skylight was a desk laden strewn with half-open books, notes hastily scribbled in the margin, papers with detailed diagrams and even more notes as well as what looked to be at least five mug of what he could only assume to be coffee. If that wasn’t enough there were at least three whiteboards full of more papers, maps, notes and photographs alike, all pieced together with Stiles’ patented red/blue/green string system. Peter would’ve assumed it was just Stiles poking his nose into his father’s business again, if not for the fact that from here Peter could recognise a few of the faces.

In the other corner lay some sort of chest, partially covered with a blanket. Something to look into later Peter supposed. Then again, considering the contents in the room, it might be wise to leave well alone. 

There was not much else to be seen up here aside from random piles of books as well as a bring purple beanbag not far from where he lay. A few shoes, a hoodie, what appeared to be some stolen borrowed science equipment, if the faintly penned _property of BHHS_ was to be believed. Peter smirked, contrary to popular belief, it seems that Stiles was not above petty theft, when it suited his own needs of course. 

 

“Finished your inventory then I take it?” Came Stiles voice from somewhere above his head. Seeing that the boy had stood up, he took the initiative to do so also.

“Why, what a charming little place you have here.” Peter drawled.

“Yes. I was so too hoping you would, _drop in_.” Stiles snarked back, “It’s been so awfully lonely without a creeper wolf for company.

“Well you only need ask, dear boy.”

“Yes, not even that, it seems.” Stiles raised an eyebrow at Peter pointedly.

“Touche.” He allowed a slight head nod in concession, noticing with a smug smile, that the water Stiles had doused him with had broken the mountain ash circle keeping him in place. “However, as captivating as this conversation is, I must be off. Derek’s to save, puppies to kick, you know the drill.” He leapt up, grabbing onto the edge of the hole that he’d made in the roof and hauling himself up, Stiles sputtering behind him.

“You can’t leave!” Stiles exclaimed, arms flailing, “What about the giant hole in my roof? What about my dad, huh? What the hell am I supposed to tell him?!”

Sticking his head back through the ceiling, he answered, “You’re a resourceful boy, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” With that said Peter straightened and, giving a quick glance around the area (one can never be too careful after all, he _had_ made quite a bit of noise coming in), made his way down the side of the Stilinski house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I don't even know.
> 
> This chapter has been sitting on my computer since like July. It was only like 5 lines short of completion lmao. I just hated it so much I never got round to posting it, (a little cause I forgot). I swear I rewrote it like 800 times to where it doesn't even make sense anymore so I'm getting rid of it before I go crazy.
> 
> ~TCS x

**Author's Note:**

> Also, anyone who has read/are reading/will read my Merlin series should note I will resume writing If 'Not Now Then Never'. All being well I should alternate between updating that fic and this one.
> 
> Alright I'm done  
> ~TCS x


End file.
